


Sometimes We're Wrong

by castielsstarr



Series: Ask and Answer [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Cuddling & Snuggling, Knifeplay, M/M, Panic Attacks, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, one small cut nothing big, sometimes new kink just doesn't work out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 17:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7541572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsstarr/pseuds/castielsstarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wants to try something new, but it ends up being more than he can handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes We're Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Would you do something where Sam and Dean are having rough sex (bottom Sam top Dean) and Dean tries something new and Sam panics and has to safeword? Totally consensual, discussed beforehand, they're being safe and respectful of each other, but Sam just didn't realize how much it would freak him out.

The light tickle of the blade point down his inner thigh made Sam squirm. The feeling was made worse, stronger, because of the blindfold covering his eyes. It was some combination of good and frightening that kept his dick rock hard between his legs. Dean wasn’t going to get the blade anywhere near his junk—that was a hard limit for both of them—but it was getting close enough that it made him nervous.

He trusted Dean. That wasn’t the slightest concern, but he was still a little afraid at the feeling of it drawing close to his upper thigh before sliding back down. Sam thought he might have a fear kink, but he needed to get comfortable with the idea of a knife during sex first, or else he wasn’t likely to agree to really trying because he knew what he wanted from Dean. Wanted to see if he really could get off from being scared. Really scared. Fear for his life kind of scared. He’d definitely gotten hard that one time they almost lost a fight with a shifter.

There was something about the tip of this knife blade, though. It wasn’t sitting exactly right with Sam, but maybe he was just overthinking it. Maybe if he got his brain to calm down, then he would be able to enjoy this more. The brush of danger kept him interested, but not enough to keep his mind from wandering.

“You doin’ good, Sammy?”

He nodded. Dean didn’t respond to him, as if he was still waiting. He thought he nodded, but maybe he didn’t, so Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, good.”

“You tell me to stop and we’ll stop. Not gonna make you do something you don’t want to.”

“I know. It’s just… weird. Still adjusting to it.”

“Least I know part of you likes it,” Dean said as he stroked his free hand over Sam’s stiff length.

A soft moan was tugged from his chest with each pump of his dick. “Yeah, fuck.” The hand left his skin soon after, the abandonment almost making him harder.

“Hey, are you sure you want to go all the way with this?” Warm palm came to rest on his knee while the knife was removed. He was giving him time to think. “Like, I don’t actually have to cut you if you don’t want. Not this time, anyway. Can go slow.”

“No, it’s ok. I want to do it. I like other kinds of pain, so this shouldn’t be too different.”

He heard shifting that was likely some sort of nod before Dean repositioned. “We’ll work up to it.” The blade was back against his skin—his arm this time—tracing a small, intricate system of swirls onto it. A reminder that it hadn’t gone away, but it wasn’t forcing his skin to split yet. Just a healthy scratch that made him want to crawl out of his skin, but simultaneously eased something inside him that Sam wasn’t sure about.

The rough hand returned to his cock, slicked with a little lube that wasn’t there before. He never needed much—usually a few solid strokes had him leaking enough to ease the rest of the friction. Sam moaned as his muscles fluttered, a bead of precome blurting out to then be swiped down his length. 

It was enough of a distraction that he didn’t notice immediately when the knife point was back on his inner thigh, but as soon as he did, he was tense again. Dean was shushing him and murmuring words that were meant to calm him, but they didn’t. Why had he wanted a knife? Why couldn’t he have just let his brother smack him around like usual?

There was pressure against his leg and he felt the blade slide through his skin, opening a small, thin wound, and the air stung and for some reason he couldn’t breathe. It hurt a little, no more than a severe paper cut, but he couldn’t draw air into his lungs and his eyes were wet and something was wrong. Sam tried to inhale, but he choked again, and even with the lack of eyesight he could tell he was dizzy.

One word. 

He just needed enough air for one fucking word. 

It was a battle, but he was able to force it out on what was probably no more than a whisper. “Red!”

The cool metal was gone and there were hands pulling the blindfold from his eyes and cradling his face. It was Dean—of course it was Dean—but his image was swimming.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’ve gotcha. You’re ok, little brother. Come on, why don’t we get you sitting up a little, hm?”

Even as large as Sam was, Dean was still strong enough to move him around at will, pulling him up to lean against his torso. Both arms were wrapped around him, keeping his arms at his sides as his older brother’s hands were pressed to his chest, one directly at the center of his sternum and the other right beneath it.

“You’re good. It’ll pass soon, just try to breathe normally, ok?” Dean’s voice was low and comforting in his ear. The hot breath that puffed against his skin was usually a turn on, but in this case it served as an anchor. It was something outside of himself that he could latch on to and it would bring him back down.

Whether it was Dean’s presence, the crying, or a combination thereof, he was able to suck in a few breaths that helped to steady himself. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Hey, ain’t got nothing to be sorry for. Panic attacks happen.”

“I know, I just wanted to try it. Didn’t expect that to happen. Thought it was something I wanted.”

Dean was running his hands lightly over Sam’s torso wherever they could reach, the slow movements soothing him down more. “Sometimes we’re wrong, and that’s ok. We don’t need to do everything.”

He nodded and sniffled before bringing a hand up to scrub at his eyes. “Give me a couple more minutes and I’ll get you off.”

Those strong arms tightened around him in a hug. “Let’s not worry about that right now, ok? We’re just gonna lay here for a while. If you lean over for two seconds you can reach the remote and we can watch a movie. Sound good?”

Sam wanted to take care of his brother’s waning erection, wanted either of them to get something out of tonight’s venture, but he knew he wasn’t going to win if he tried to argue. When Dean wanted to make sure Sam was good, there was nothing else that was going to satisfy him until he was a puddle of calm in his older brother’s lap.

With the remote acquired, the worst of the panic gone, and Dean’s hand carded into Sam’s hair, they both started to relax.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on Tumblr, I promise I don't bite:  
> SPN NSFW Multi-ship sideblog: [wingedwincest.tumblr.com](http://www.wingedwincest.tumblr.com)  
> Main blog: [castielsstarr.tumblr.com](http://www.castielsstarr.tumblr.com)


End file.
